To everything there is a season...

I remarked to a friend several months back that I felt like big changes were on the way in my life, but I didn't know what they would look like. And now I have a slightly better idea.

It's time for me to look for some new opportunities to serve. and for chances to bring my skills into a new position. I'm officially placing myself back on the market, so to speak.


Am I excited? Extremely.
 I don't know what's next, but I believe it will be good.

Am I scared? Absolutely.
Change is scary, period. But I've been reminded lately of something I wrote when I was at the coast--it was in the previous post:



Why settle for a river when the ocean is right next door? 



So this is me, stretching for the ocean. I am ready and open to accept any tips, help, suggestions. I'm happy to share my resume, glad to sit and chat over coffee about what motivates me, or what motivates you.

Expect more updates from this space, but please don't hesitate to reach out to me if you have questions or updates. I'll be here, and I'll be ready.

One little thing.

Dude, you guys, check out what happened to Horatio Sanz, formerly of SNL.
Wow.

Wow.

Three things I love.

After yesterday's "Woe is me, tires flee from me" post, I figured some positivity was in order. And so, here are three things I love.

1. My Dad. 

My dad called me today and offered to buy me a set of new tires, something I never could have afforded on my own. Because of thing I love number two, I ended up not needing them, but still. It was a reminder of how good my dad is at always coming through. I forget really easily how many people either don't have dads at all, or don't have dads who are really good men. And my dad is a really good man.

Not having a job this year has been really brutal. But my dad has always been a voice of calm, reminding me "We all know you're working really hard, and we all know how tough it is to get hired right now." Also, not having to be at work has afforded me the chance to be at my parents' house more, especially when my mom got sick. And I got to spend more time with Dad, and really get to know him as a whole person, not just "Dad".


2. Les Schwab Tire Centers

Yep. I love these guys. A bit of promotion for them: If you don't live in the West, you're out of luck. And it's a shame for you, really. because they are amazing. I've visited their stores in several towns, and the service is consistently exemplary. You can drive in and have them check your tire on the spot, and their warantees are fantastic. If something goes wrong with something you bought there, they replace it, no problem.

They also don't try to sell you stuff you don't need. I told you about the generous offer from my dad--asked them to check out all of the tires, even told them I was willing to buy a whole new set. They let me know that my tires were in good shape, and then they fixed the one that went flat. You all saw the photo from yesterday. Repaired. No charge. Amazing. Their website.

3. 30 Rock


 Why aren't you watching this show? It's the best thing on network TV. The writing is brilliant, the jokes are fast, self-aware and unpredictable, the cast is perfect, and Tracy Morgan makes me wish every week he had been this funny on SNL. That is all.

"Your hands! They're like biscuits with sticks jammed in 'em!"

I haven't posted in over a week (Apologies, as I'm sure you are all sitting around waiting for me). It's been a strange week or so; I've been intermittently grumpy, and who wants to read the grumblings of a grumpy me? I don't even want to write them.

That doesn't mean the week was terrible--there were plenty of good times, lots of friends, and countless things I wish I had written down but didn't. So, here's a couple highlights, if they can be called that:

Ben came and hung out this weekend, and we were at Powell's at Hawthorne, and I was searching for a book (there's a story there, but first...). Ben was talking to me, and this guy came up behind him, trying to go down the aisle. He was probably in his early 20's. But here's the thing. The guy was wearing a bowler hat. Like a proper, It's-1901-and-it's-time-to-hitch-my-horse-in-town-or-whatever-guys-in-bowler-hats-did-back-then hat. And then, when Ben moved aside to let him pass, the guy gave us the tiniest of bows, complete with one of those weird rolly-hand waves, and said, "Pardon me," in a voice that I honestly couldn't tell if it was silly, or just his normal voice.

It was my favorite moment of that day.

Here's the thing about the books: Eric's books hate me. I think they've all talked to one another, and signed a suicide pact. If they get sent to my house, they know the kamikaze mission is on. Last summer, I sent him a text that said, "I have to buy you a new copy of Cloud Atlas because I just smashed a bug in it."

Seriously. I was minding my own business, reading, and a GIANT bug of unknown origin landed on the page. I shrieked, slammed the book shut, and then...blech. Bug guts all over the page, luckily on a paragraph I had finished. So I own that copy now, and I'm pretty sure there's still some kind of brown spot somewhere around the middle.

I don't think these things happen to normal people. Case in point, the death wish that had me in Powell's in the first place:

I've been reading his copy of Love in the Time of Cholera. The other day. I set the book down on my bed, and when I sat down, I bumped it, and it fell. Could have happened to anyone, except that this book is clearly part of the suicidal insurgency. So rather than falling gracefully to the floor, it tumbled partway, and then allowed pages 41-51 (and only those pages. I smell a plot afoot) to catch on my bedframe, ripping them three-quarters of the way down the page. I am pretty sure I said, "You're kidding me," out loud. So that copy's mine now. Eric gets a new one.

I'll probably, hopefully be blogging more regularly from here on out. At the moment, I have had too much coffee, and it's making me jittery and I kind of feel like my brain is clicking too fast. Please tell me someone else has felt that way. :)

And before I go, a friend of a friend saw these restroom signs in Vermont. I think they should be universal:

and then...

"Can you guys hear me? Am I deaf?"

Oh my gosh, so many silly things. But first of all, a one-woman dialogue:

*h*: Hey, self?

*h* (self): Yeah?

*h*: I'm really not a fan of this whole "Let's not sleep at night" thing.

*h* (self): Yeah, I know.

*h*: So... yeah. A memo, is all. (Get it?)

*h* (self): Got it. How are you feeling?

*h*: Actually, I feel kinda funny.

*h* (self): Uh oh. Need a bucket?
*h*: Not that kind of funny...more like 'I keep giggling aloud at my own thoughts' funny, so let's run with it.

Ta da! Thank you. I will accept my Pulitzer and other baubles of appreciation via UPS.

So, my tv's been broken since I moved in here (and when I say "broken", what I actually mean is "I can't get the universal remote to work which means I can't get the tv to switch to video mode which means I can't get the converter box to work which means it's sorta kinda broken." Seriously, if you can fix it, you're welcome to do so at nearly any time.), which means that I don't watch much tv, and when I do, it becomes this wonderfully exciting thing.

I tried to watch a couple summer shows via Hulu, but I gave up, and I feel better about that now that I know Kevin Skinner won America's Got Talent. I mean, the guy's talented, no doubt, but he's so backwoodsy that I'm just afraid that two weeks into his Vegas show he's gonna go on a coke-fueled rampage, swimming in the fountain at the Bellagio, pointing out hookers and slapping transvestites. Take care of yourself, Mr. Skinner. Meanwhile...

The Office had its season premiere last night (and yes, so did Parks and Recreation but I missed it so ssshhhh...), and if there is one show I will always find a way to watch on the night it airs, it's The Office. And I learned something last night. I really like watching that show with people who love it, and like watching it with people who are sometime casual observers a lot less. Since one of them may be reading this, let me say for good measure, I love you and I think you're great and I will not let our varied levels of devotion to this show affect our friendship, apart from the fact that I might not hang with you Thursday nights.

But usually, if someone doesn't love The Office, but also doesn't dislike it strongly enough to not watch it if it is on somewhere they happen to be, the following will happen: They will laugh some (but not as much as me), they will become a harmless and unintended peanut gallery, from which will be heard statements such as, "Um... okay..." and "Oh my gosh...." and "Wow. He's kind of a jerk..." and all of these will be made with slight (I think mostly unintended) hints of disdain. And usually, if you ask a casual observer of The Office if they are a fan of the show, they will say something like, "It's funny sometimes, but it's so awkward. Like, I know it's supposed to be, but sometimes it's just too awkward."

This is usually the point where I will announce that I love the show, and I will feel like a heathen and a failure. But the fact is that the casual observer is right, the fact that it's so awkward is what makes the show, because you either see moments like that (hopefully to a milder degree) all the time and feel like you know people like the characters in your own life, or you don't. But I'm sorry, I find the idea of Andy describing his maybe-gay maybe-not-gay fantasy about Brad Pitt to his gay coworker hilarious (ask someone who's gay, and I can almost promise you they've had a mellow form of that conversation with a straight coworker). And Jesus still loves me, and I'm sure he would love Andy Bernard, too, were he real.

After that, this new show Community was on, which stars this guy named Joel McHale, who used to be on this show on the E! network (or maybe still is) called The Soup, where he stands in front of a flat-screen tv and talks about clips from all the different talk shows and reality-tv shows.

Please don't ask me why I know this--I can only suggest that my brain is and has always been a sponge for useless trivia and has no room for practical things, such as how to live--but there have been at least three other hosts of the talk show show, which used to be called Talk Soup, and they are John Henson, Aisha Tyler, and GREG KINNEAR, YOU GUYS.

So John Henson is now kind of a cartoon of his former self, and he did the narration on that dumb Wipeout show and I think DirectTV commercials or something, which makes me kind of sad. Aisha Tyler was on Friends way back when, long after I had stopped watching, and I'm sure she has done other great stuff, I just don't know what it is. But still, she's funny, she seems awesome, and I think we'd be good friends. Call me, Aisha!

And Greg Kinnear, like way, way, way back. I love Greg, and no matter how many Little Miss Sunshines he is in, I will always hear, "It's high times for you, isn't it Melvin? The gay neighbor is terrified!" in my head when I see him, and this will make me want to hug him and take him home. And by the way, if you are in the sad position of never having seen As Good As It Gets, that should be fixed immediately, because that movie is hilarious and sad in a great way, and Greg Kinnear is perfect.

Whew! All that to say that Community was actually pretty funny, and then Jay Leno's "new" show came on and everyone got kind of quiet and sad, because it's Jay Leno, which means it's not funny.

Okay, before I go, I feel like I need to share something that proves I still have a working brain: literature! I finished Franny & Zooey, which I loved and want to read like four more times, and just started Love in the Time of Cholera. And in defense of why I love novels, check out this first line:

"It was inevitable: The scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love."

Are you kidding me? That's the kind of first line that makes me a total mess: I don't know whether to curse, or pray, or make out with the first man I see. And I'm only 30 pages in, but the whole book is like that! It makes me read it slow, not because it's particularly difficult, but because the words are so lush. His sentences go on for days, but they manage not to waste a word. I usually like prose that really clips along fast, but those 30 pages were kind of heavenly.

See? Brain still works. Maybe I shouldn't fix my tv... having this much to say about it is kind of great.